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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25827046">Guilty as a Girl Can Be</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlebitcloser/pseuds/alittlebitcloser'>alittlebitcloser</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>You Bring Me Home [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Canada's Drag Race RPF, RuPaul's Drag Race RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>80s dykes in London, F/F, Lesbian AU, Meetcute at a Bananarama concert, lemyanka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:41:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,798</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25827046</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlebitcloser/pseuds/alittlebitcloser</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Her eyes were wide, and she looked like a deer caught in headlights before a huge smile bloomed across her face. She gestured to Lemon’s outfit and then to her own ensemble of styled denim, hollering immediately about them matching. Lemon couldn’t help but giggle at her elation, accepting the way she grabbed at her hands with the softest palms she’d ever felt. Her grasp was tight, but it didn’t hurt.</p><p>She moved closer in order to chat to Lemon under the music.</p><p>“I’m Priyanka! I’m sorry, did you need something?” Priyanka seemed to remember the sensation of being tapped on the shoulder, backtracking with an intense focus on the blonde.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lemon/Priyanka</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>You Bring Me Home [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1874350</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Guilty as a Girl Can Be</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>So, ever since I put these guys into Maybe Together We Can Get Somewhere (Any Place is Better) I've been so soft for them. I realised there are literally only a COUPLE OF FICS FOR THESE TWO when it's like...have you seen them on Canada's Drag Race?! </p><p>So I took it upon myself to take my little 80s incarnations and write something for a lil bit of fun. I hope you like it aaaaaa!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Izzy was a fucking bitch. </p><p>If Lemon was bitter - which she absolutely wasn’t - she would have knocked on the next house along just to make sure they knew what a bitch they had for a neighbour.</p><p>Okay, maybe she wasn’t, but she’d ditched her plans with Lemon at the very last minute with a lame excuse about a ‘housemate emergency’. Lemon had been sweet as pie when she’d turned up to Izzy’s flat, gladrags and glitter on, only to be told that her friend wouldn’t be joining her at the concert. The way Izzy had nervously tittered at the door and avoided any specific details made Lemon raise an eyebrow and twist her hair around her finger judgingly with pursed lips. What made it worse? Izzy was so obviously distracted that she didn’t even comment on her friend’s look, and Lemon knew that her outfit deserved more appreciation than that. She had picked out a lace bralette, a bright pop of yellow underneath a double denim ensemble with the chunkiest boots she could find.</p><p>So, determined not to be beaten down, Lemon had simply huffed in annoyance when Izzy’s door closed and she fingered the two tickets that sat inside her purse with a pout. <em>Whatever. The girl in Izzy’s bed better make it worth missing this,</em> she scoffed to herself. Lemon was going to see her favourites. Bananarama. And nobody was going to ruin that for her. </p><p>Growing up, her blooming obsessions with women in music from Kim Wilde to The Bangles and Bananarama had always been treated as a normal thing for a young girl to have, and Lemon couldn’t help feeling grateful that her parents never worked out that her love for these women had always gone beyond musical appreciation. That was one thing Lemon would definitely miss tonight - screaming in Izzy’s face about her crush on Keren Woodward. She was pretty certain that she might faint on sight when she came out onstage. That was the first crush Lemon was ever <em> completely </em>sure of, realising that no she definitely didn’t want to be Keren. She wanted to fuck Keren.</p><p>Speaking of fucking…Perhaps Izzy’s absence would actually come as somewhat of a blessing. Lemon’s lips were painted with pillarbox red and she felt like smearing it on someone else’s skin would be the perfect antidote to the bummer of attending the concert alone. In theory, this was a simple endeavour. However, Lemon wasn’t quite sure how she would go about it, having sometimes mistaken a straight girl’s kindness for adoration, but she was determined to be optimistic. </p><p>Like, if they were wearing Doc Martens, that was a confirmed dyke right?</p><p>Ugh. Lesbianism was hard, but also fucking great when she managed to get it right. </p><p>The venue was drenched in a smoky mist, and Lemon had to stop herself from whining to the person standing next to her that the gross smell was going to get caught in her hair (if it could get past the hairspray). Lemon was a talker, and she bit the inside of her cheek as she yearned for a friend. This lone wolf thing wasn't for her.</p><p>The support act...weren’t great, and standing silently to watch them felt like more effort than it was worth without anyone to talk shit about them with. That’s why Lemon felt the need to leave her spot and grab herself a gin and tonic, which she stirred with her straw in between dainty sips to save her lipstick. On her way back to reclaim her spot, she squeezed through the sticky crowd with a few mumbled apologies, and the air felt humid and close. She came to the conclusion that nobody should ever feel this kind of humidity in London. Even inside, it just didn’t feel right. There was absolutely nothing tropical about a music venue in Shepherd’s Bush. </p><p>Upon reaching her destination, Lemon visibly bristled and rolled her eyes, and she had to hold back a bitchy whine of irritation at the sight before her. It was a girl committing a concert crime, as far as Lemon was concerned. A girl significantly taller than her had taken the spot directly in front, and the booming bass from the support act began to thump its way into a headache without the visuals to aid it.</p><p>“Excuse me?” Lemon tried, rolling her eyes when the taller girl simply continued to bop from side to side, lost in the guitar solo. This time, she tapped her on the shoulder. “<em> Excuse me-” </em></p><p>The girl finally turned, and Lemon was ready to give her a piece of her mind when-</p><p>She found that she couldn't.</p><p>Her eyes were wide, and she looked like a deer caught in headlights before a huge smile bloomed across her face. She gestured to Lemon’s outfit and then to her own ensemble of styled denim, hollering immediately about them matching. Lemon couldn’t help but giggle at her elation, accepting the way she grabbed at her hands with the softest palms she’d ever felt. Her grasp was tight, but it didn’t hurt.</p><p>She moved closer in order to chat to Lemon under the music.</p><p>“I’m Priyanka! I’m sorry, did you need something?” Priyanka seemed to remember the sensation of being tapped on the shoulder, backtracking with an intense focus on the blonde.</p><p>“Call me Lemon,” She easily responded, suddenly a little bashful about her earlier irritation. It was hard to be pissed off when Priyanka was still holding onto her hands with an unrelenting grip. “I’m a little short and you’re like...not?”</p><p>It took a second before Priyanka let out an ‘ohhh fuck!’ that Lemon couldn’t hear under the thumping bass. Before she knew it, she was being gently dragged into a new position, much to the annoyance of those around them, and suddenly she was tucked cosily into the space in front of Priyanka. Lemon felt warm breath tickle her ear and nearly jumped at the sensation. It raised goosebumps on the back of her neck.</p><p>“Better?” Priyanka was sweet if chaotic, and Lemon turned ever so slightly to beam up at her. The multicoloured lights made her brown eyes phosphorescent, and Lemon was grateful that the music was so clamorous that Priyanka couldn’t hear the goofy laugh she let out. </p><p>Priyanka’s hands came to rest on her shoulders when she turned around again, and it felt like her palms were pushing words back down Lemon’s throat. Everything she wanted to say suddenly felt deathly embarrassing, and she swallowed them down thickly. Realising she hadn’t answered Priyanka’s question, she forcefully plucked the words from her head and hoped they would come out making sense.</p><p>“Th-That’s amazing. Thank you!” Lemon choked out, cursing herself for stuttering and occupying her lips with her straw for the rest of the support act’s set so that she couldn’t speak again.</p><p>When the lights came up, Lemon tossed her plastic cup onto the floor. She turned to glance at Priyanka with a furtive and playful “shhhhh”, pressing her index finger to her lips. Priyanka seemed thrilled by this, and was tactile as ever as she gave Lemon a small shove in response. Lemon began wondering what else she could do to prompt these small touches that seemed to keep coming.</p><p>“So, why are you here alone?” Priyanka probed, cocking her head to the side. </p><p>“I could ask you the same question.”</p><p>“Touché, but I asked you first.”</p><p>“Fine, I’ll bite. My friend ditched me for sex.” Lemon deadpanned, pouting at Priyanka, and her nose crinkled with the motion.</p><p>Priyanka’s cackle practically terrified the crowds around her, and it was the biggest explosion of unbridled joy that Lemon had seen in a long time. Her own chortles were nasal and she’d always hated them, but Priyanka’s elation was like laughing gas that infiltrated her lungs and didn’t give her any choice but to join in. </p><p>“Now, come on. Spill. Why are <em> you </em>here alone?” Lemon pressed.</p><p>“I got my ticket super last minute and had nobody to ask. This is gonna sound dumb, but hear me out. It’s a lot.” Priyanka warned before she began, brushing her dark hair out of her face as she animatedly explained, constantly speaking with her hands. “I get that I’m literally an adult, but I still live with my parents and they would <em> not </em>go for this, so I’m here on a totally secret mission. They think I’m helping my cousin plan her wedding, and she’s covering for me.”</p><p>“Oh, so she’s a stealthy bitch.” Lemon teased, cocking her head, wanting to work Priyanka out.</p><p>“They really don’t know the half of it.”</p><p>Lemon felt bold. She’d only gotten bold in the past few years, her confidence invigorated by the journey she had taken with her own queerness. It wasn’t exactly a fantastic time to be queer, to be anything <em> other, </em>but Lemon stashed away the tiny, scared kid she once was. Today’s Lemon could handle the challenge.</p><p>“Oh yeah? What exactly <em>is </em>the half of it?” </p><p>Sudden darkness interrupted them, and Lemon swiftly whipped round to take in the sight of her favourite band under the lights. She felt Priyanka’s hands come back down onto her shoulders, and heard her scream of exhilaration joining the chorus of the crowd.  Lemon couldn’t help bouncing up and down in anticipation, heart banging to the same beat of the drums.</p><p>“It’s them! It’s them!” Lemon fangirled, twirling around so she could briefly screech the words at Priyanka who met her enthusiasm with her own crazed nods and ecstatic gaze.</p><p>Lemon was completely starstruck, and the one thing making it better were the playful grabby hands coming from behind her, from Priyanka, the girl she barely even knew, who seemed to be floating on air right there with her. Lemon was a hurricane, chaotic and excitable. Priyanka seemed like a weather warning herself, and Lemon couldn’t argue with this as every touch was a bolt of lightning against her skin. She was sensitive to these brushes of contact, incredibly so, and the most innocent of grazes dizzied her beyond belief. </p><p>Lemon wasn’t quite sure when it started happening, when the friendly hands squeezing her shoulders had made their way down to her waist as they danced, but she definitely wasn’t complaining. If anything, Lemon was actively encouraging it, embracing the intoxication that came with it. She took the yellow scrunchie from her wrist and tied her thick hair up, relieving the back of her neck from the warm sweat gathering there, and all the while she swayed subtly closer and closer to Priyanka with the beat of the music.</p><p>Lemon snickered to herself when Priyanka squeezed her hips in response to her ass being pressed against her, and she tossed her ponytail over her shoulder smugly. She knew she looked good, and she definitely wasn’t a religious woman, but in that moment she thanked god that she could dance. As her movements got braver, so did Priyanka’s hands, safe under the blanketed darkness of the crowd. Everyone’s eyes were on the stage. The taboo threat that hung over them, that they definitely shouldn’t be getting this close out here in the open, only seemed to spur them on. Priyanka’s fingertips certainly weren’t permitted to ever so slightly dip into her jeans, nor were they supposed to be moving up to brush the bottom of her bright yellow bralette.</p><p>It continued that way throughout the night, touches that ranged from tender to amorous, with fleeting glances to go along with them. It was the last song, and the compulsion to turn around was even stronger than Lemon’s need to stare at Keren’s ass in those leather trousers. They were finishing with <em> Venus, </em> and Lemon was determined to look as nonchalant as possible as she twisted her hips and found herself face to face with Priyanka. Priyanka raised a questioning eyebrow at her, but her expression was positively indecent as she bit her lip. Lemon took that as the go ahead to drape her arms around her neck as they sang the lyrics at each other, full of unadulterated joy and maybe something else. </p><p>She couldn’t help her gaze from flicking down to Priyanka’s full lips, and then she went lower. She wasn’t wearing Doc Martens, but the evidence that Priyanka <em> wanted </em>her was pretty damn substantial even without a particular brand of shoe. </p><p>Lemon moved closer, her hummingbird heartbeat that clattered against her ribcage willing her to press her lips against Priyanka’s when a sobering pang hit her. <em> We’re in public. </em> Instantly, Lemon tightly clutched Priyanka’s hand, tugging her ecstatically through the crowd as the band kept playing. She didn’t care about that anymore, she only cared about hauling the taller girl into the bathrooms that were thankfully empty as everyone was enjoying the show.</p><p>Priyanka practically stumbled into the bathroom stall, nearly falling in her heels, hysterical bursts of laughter interspersed with small shrieks coming from her lips as she rode the chaotic wave Lemon was taking her on. Lemon clumsily locked the door to the cubicle, giggling and barely registering how filthy the bathrooms were as she turned around to see that Priyanka’s grin had turned into something different. </p><p>Before she could speculate, it became rapidly clear when Priyanka crowded her up against the door. Everything was fast and heated until it wasn’t. Until Priyanka came close to her lips, and Lemon could swear she saw a tentativeness in her irises as they breathed raggedly into the shared space between them. Priyanka’s eyes were aflame, coaxing her, daring her. Lemon swallowed thickly and cupped Priyanka’s jaw, giving her a tiny wink of warning before leaning up to kiss her.</p><p>Priyanka seemed to gain all of her confidence in that split second, pressing her body flush against Lemon’s, eliciting an immediate sigh of affirmation from her lips as she braced herself against the wall. Lemon’s yellow tipped fingertips were scratching against some faded graffiti of who loves who on the wall of the cubicle, and Priyanka’s perfume was making her feel unbelievably heady. The woody, smokey oud was intoxicating, and it worked at complete odds with the sickly sweet scent she had dabbed at her pulse points earlier on. They fit well, though, just like the way Priyanka’s knee had conveniently fit in between Lemon’s thighs.</p><p>Lemon felt like she was being unravelled, piece by piece. It wasn’t that she’d ever been wound particularly tight, but Priyanka was untying the knots of her being so expertly that she was weakly whimpering against her lips for more. When Priyanka laughed at her for it, all smug and teasing, Lemon pinched the ever so slightly exposed skin of her hip and they collapsed into each other with hysterical giggles.</p><p>“Shut <em> up-” </em>Lemon complained in a high pitched tone, crinkling her nose as she failed to scowl, simply because her smile kept breaking through the barriers of her expression.</p><p> Lemon tipped her head back with an immediate willingness, giving into Priyanka’s lips, nips and bites against her neck, and her eyes fluttered closed against the artificial lights above them. She threaded her fingers into the roots of Priyanka’s hair, and the gasp she pulled from her when she tugged was nothing short of delicious.</p><p>Just as Lemon firmly hooked a leg around Priyanka, when her longing became enough for her to forget where she was, the door to the cubicle beside theirs slammed in such a way that made them both jump and squeal in surprise. </p><p>Their chests were heaving and their faces were a clear testament to what they had been up to. Lemon felt high on it, and wasn’t willing to face the come down.</p><p>“So…” Lemon breathed, her eyes glassy and blown out as she took Priyanka in. She used her thumb to haphazardly wipe away the smears of ruby lipstick, dreading to think what her own reflection would be like. Although, from the way Priyanka was staring at her, Lemon couldn’t help but feel beautiful.<em> What the fuck?  </em></p><p>She took a moment before continuing.</p><p>“Did you plan to stay over at your cousin’s place? Y’know, after all of that <em>exhausting</em> wedding planning...” She left it hanging, teeth grazing her lower lip that was now ever so slightly swollen from the way Priyanka had stolen rough kisses.</p><p>“If by my cousin’s place, you mean your plaaaaace...” Priyanka dragged out the last word and trailed off, a mischievous grin on her face. She wiggled her eyebrows in a jokingly flirtatious way that made Lemon snort a laugh and roll her eyes.</p><p>“You stupid bitch, of course that’s what I meant.”</p><p>So, as Lemon strolled out of the venue linking arms with Priyanka, she made a mental note to thank Izzy for bailing on her.</p><p>
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